I Ran Past Consent

This story is paired with Chapter XIII of Bulfinch’s Mythology. For best experience, download the LithoReader for your iPhone or iPad and get NonBinary Review for free. 

There was a tipping point but I was already
running like hell. I’ll go down for having
the best memory when I remember the most;
earn an award if I detail the scenes graphically.
I was exhilarated cuz wrath was chasing me down.
My legs were weighed down cuz someone stabbed me
with epiniephrine pens as I ran by their hidey hole.
They were just trying to help but my, our, glass casings
raucous pumped. I fell and broke the needles
in my thighs, sharded my belly—I threw an allergic exorcism.
I tasted it. I realized I had never been alone.
I didn’t thank anyone.
I have been asked to prove I was wronged, not who wronged me.
It isn’t something I can lie about. Here’s a fucking
topographical replica. Judges will evaluate my rendition
with their fingers in my mouth.
At some point following turned to chasing, likely
at the tipping point I missed because I was running
rapidly past coincidence after coincidence.
I request a rapid transport to another country and body
cuz mine is terrifying; the jury look exhilarated and
infatuated. If there was consent, I ran right past it.
I needed to get away while I was euphoric.
My history becomes a door others open
and is less tangible to me.
It was near the beginning. Fire burned up the evidence.
I ran right through the hot of it and I didn’t know it.
I don’t have to prove nature, just acts.
My memories are objects at a touch-me wake,
wrath was behind me before I was born.
I tell the sexiest stories because I was present.


Kate Litterer’s poems appear in numerous online and print journals, such as Coconut, h_ngm_n, Forklift, Ohio, The Destroyer, and phantomb limb. One of her poems will be included in the anthology Please Excuse This Poem: 100 Poems for the Next Generation, forthcoming from Penguin in 2015.